Homecoming
by TinyCompanion
Summary: Aurra has been away for far longer than she expected...and upon returning to Windhelm, she fears that the changes the past year has wrought will not be accepted by her closest friends. Takes place after the Dawnguard questline. F!DB/Ulfric


_"Homecoming" – F!Dovahkiin(Aurra)/Ulfric_

Aurra knew Serana was watching her cautiously, uneasy, when they stopped just outside the doors of the Palace of Kings. The Breton woman took a deep breath, reaching up to touch the rough bearskin her cloak was sewn from. She hadn't worn her old Stormcloak gear since defeating Alduin. She still had the scars from the burns that it hadn't protected her from. She didn't need the weight of slaying Paarthurnax carried with her constantly, either. But today…well, it served many of her purposes. But it still unnerved her how much the old hides still felt like a second skin, like they had during the war. She wasn't the same, in several aspects. She supposed she would need the echoes of pride from her less dubious conquests to give her strength in this.

"Why are we here, then? I thought you said the third Scroll was in the College." The ancient vampire finally gave up on waiting for an answer. It hadn't taken Serana very long to learn that Bretons, as a race, were very slow to share information on their own. Aurra, while more perceptive than most, still tended to be a bit withholding.

She didn't answer, for a long moment. She simply stared at the great golden door in front of her, eyes both longing and fearful. What would he think of her now? It had been so long…she hadn't seen him since Frostfall, when she had straggled into the living quarters, bloodied and exhausted in the earliest hours of the morning. Right after she had returned from Sovngarde. She hadn't been able to speak more than a few words, her throat still raw from Shouting Akatosh's firstborn to the ground. He hadn't thought any differently of her even when she managed to force the story out. He still saw her as Aurra. Aurra the Breton, with dark hair, a green-painted face, and, "enough force behind her axe to splinter a dragon's jaw."

Aurra with dark, daring eyes. Not fiery orange with a newborn hunger that filled her mind with a pressing, almost frantic want. A need, really. She supposed. Whatever it was, it alienated her from her own body. She felt strange, at all times, especially when her fingers found the deep punctures in her neck. She wasn't concerned about the Dawnguard's thoughts on the matter. At least, not as much as she was over Ulfric's reaction.

At last, she sighed, dropping her head against the door. It barely made a sound, but the thud of the Breton woman's head drew the guard's attention. "I have to-"

"Wait…I know you!" Her shoulders tensed again, and Serana put a hand on her dagger while looking casually at the guard, sizing up her prey. She couldn't remember whether she'd done anything to catch the authorities' attention. At least not in Windhelm. She knew she was guilty of Shouting at Nazeem in Whiterun, but that was intentional and she was proud of the action. The annoying man had flown a clear fifty feet through the air, giving her enough time to slip out of the gates before the guards caught up.

Aurra slowly rolled her shoulders underneath the bear pelt and straightened up, proud but not turning to face the man. Whatever she was about to be accused of would likely garner even more of the wrong type of attention if he caught sight of her eyes.

She could _smell_ the surprise rolling off of Serana as there was a quiet thud, only audible by her improved hearing. Warily, she turned around, and quickly found the guard was unable to meet her eyes, just as she had no way of seeing his own. Serana edged closer to her, enough that her near-silent whisper was heard.

"Would you care to explain that?"

The guard was kneeling in the dusty courtyard, head bowed respectfully. Another guard, passing through on patrol, stopped when she caught sight of her comrade. After a split second, she gasped and went down on one knee, tucking her chin in.

"My lady Queen," The man murmured quietly, standing back up. "It is an honor."

"…Please don't call me a queen." Aurra spun and heaved the heavy gold door open, slipping inside so quickly that Serana was scarcely able to follow, and the guards were left speechless outside. She took a deep breath, ready to explain to her friend as quickly as possible. Maybe. Part of her wanted to dig in her heels, and postpone her reunion for as long as possible.

The _boom_ of the door closing was much less subtle than the sound of her forehead dropping against the cold metal, however. The sound echoed impressively in the main hall, and she knew, through the adjoining chambers. Not the living quarters, however. She'd even taken the precaution of arriving in the night to avoid catching Ulfric in the war room, or, Divines save her, lounging on the throne. The last thing she needed was to make a scene of their reunion, despite the storylike quality that the Jarl – High King? – sought so much.

Like when he'd kissed her for the first time in front of the Stormcloak troops, General Tullius' blood still wet on the blade he'd given her, after _oh-so-subtly_ reminding the soldiers she was Dragonborn. The bards were having a field day with that entire battle.

She'd hoped there would only be minor guards standing around the palace, but no such luck. The three that _were_ there dropped to their knees, murmuring, "My Queen," under their breath. In the same instant, heavy footfalls came from the war room, approaching the hall.

"What on Shor's stone are you rabble doing? I thought we finally found some sane-" Galmar fell silent when he passed the door, catching sight of his fellow officer, glowing eyes and all. "Well, well…" The tenseness left Aurra's shoulders as the old man grinned widely, striding to meet her. "It is good to see you, sister."

"Brother! The same to you." She took his hand when it was offered, gripping it tightly. The guards called her a queen, but first and foremost, she was a warrior. Stormblade and Dragonborn. A sellsword, as well, when her heart – and coin purse – urged her to it.

"I see your arm is as strong as ever." A measure of caution crept into his eyes. "Luckily for me, you don't seem inclined to use your new…condition to bring me down. Your strength alone would present a worthy challenge."

"I would never harm you, Galmar, given that you never intend harm on me or my own. Vampire or not." She gestured behind her. "This is my newest shield-sister, Serana. She is working with me, as well as the Dawnguard, to some extent."

"Another vampire, then? And the Dawnguard?" he whistled lowly. "You've gotten yourself into another fine mess. I trust you know how to keep your head above the water."

"I would be dead if I didn't. You know that."

"Aye." He stood back, appraising her. "You belong in that armor, lass. I'd better see you sit a throne in it someday, and not some milk-drinker's gown." He smirked. "I'd wager you're here to calm Ulfric? It's about time someone did. He seems to be under the impression that you were struck down on the road."

"It's my fault for not returning sooner. On my honor, I swear I meant to return after a trip to Whiterun, but I got wind of the Dawnguard reforming and…" Aurra couldn't help but chuckle at herself. "By the Nine, brother, I've been bored. I couldn't resist. I suppose I'd better go see him."

"Yes, you do that. He's up by now, writing letters to the other Jarls, trying to convince them he won't attend the Moot until 'personal matters are resolved.'" Galmar started back to the war room, pulling the guards back to their feet when he passed them. Aurra hauled the one closest to her up, waving him off when he started to follow her. She quickly started after her shield-brother, Serana dogging her heels.

"What exactly is happening?" The other vampire had sped up to walk swiftly beside her friend, muttering crossly in her ear. "The guards call you a queen, that man calls you his sister, and…you've mentioned this Ulfric fellow before. I can't remember when, but…"

"He is…very dear to me. We are courting, but…I fear he may not take my transformation calmly." When she reached the door to the upper floors, she paused, one hand on the handle. "And…I think it may be best if I go alone. Maybe you should stay here with Galmar. He can catch you up on the whole situation."

"I heard my name. Are you two young ones planning something?" Galmar was seated in the corner, nursing a tankard of mead. Aurra grinned.

"Just that you get to chat with Serana while I explain things to Ulfric. Who knows – maybe you'll actually get along. She's a handful in a fight."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Stormblade." He glanced at Serana. "I have nothing against your kind, but her worth as a warrior is unproven to me. It even took me a stretch of time to enjoy your presence in the palace. But…aye. It would be for the best if she stayed here."

"I'm starting to think so, too." Serana raised an eyebrow at Aurra, still trying to figure out the strange chain of events. "I don't have the faintest idea of what's going on here, and I need to catch up."

"And sister," She stopped short of opening the door as Galmar spoke. "Let's make a wager. If this lass is as fierce a warrior as you claim, I'll buy you a drink."

"Done. I prefer Honningbrew, mind you." She laughed and slipped through the door and up the stairs.

The hallways of the palace were just as narrow and claustrophobic as she remembered, but the cramped feeling was increased tenfold by her heightened senses. She was glad Ulfric's quarters weren't far into the corridors. She hurried up the steps, at least grateful for her improved night vision. It was always so horribly lit up here…

She didn't let herself stop outside his door. She would back out if she let herself hesitate again.

The bedroom was reasonably bright, at least. She stood just in sight of him for a moment, his back to her as he wrote with a quick hand. He still wore the same robes, though they seemed rougher. There were shadows of old bloodstains on the fabric, ones that hadn't been there before she left. She took a deep, quiet breath, preparing herself, and then rapped her knuckles firmly against the nearest table, three times.

"What? Have the guards found her, at last?" There was both exhaustion and manic energy in his tone. Determination and fear. "I tire of waiting. If another day goes past with no news, wounds be damned, I'll head the search myself."

"What _wounds,_ you daft cow? Is this your way of convincing me to go everywhere with you?" Ulfric froze, slowly straightening up. He set the quill on his desk with unnecessary caution.

"…Aurra?" his voice was barely past a whisper, a stark contrast to his normal booming speech. "You've returned…?"

"Aye, but-" Without a moment's hesitation, Ulfric was on his feet, face split wide in a grin as he finally faced her. He rushed forward, reaching out – and Aurra backed away, looking at the floor as she tugged her hood lower over her face.

"My love…?" He carefully came closer, touching her arm lightly, as if he were afraid. Maybe he was, she thought. Afraid of what had happened while she was absent. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Yes, dear, I'm fine. But…I haven't come through the past year untouched." She wanted to look up and re-memorize every inch of his face, the concentration lines he'd gained while meditating on the Voice, the scars from Helgen and Solitude.

"No scar you could have gained would make you less lovely in my eyes. You would still have the fire I first fell in love with." He had visibly relaxed upon realizing she didn't mean to leave him. She could hear his heart beating fast, with his close proximity. In the same way, she now smelled the blood that oozed slowly out of a deep row of gashes on his leg.

"It…It's more than a scar. Just…please remember that I'm still myself, mostly." She shuddered and lifted her face up, letting her fiery orange eyes glow through the darkness the cut into her beloved's. He breathed in sharply, frozen for a moment, shock written across his face. She kept her expression impassive. She was a warrior. She always chose her strength above all. Yes, she had avoided Harkon's offer, but facing the prospect of being partially soul-trapped, she had gladly accepted Serana's. It made her strong. She realized that now, and she reveled in it. The power. She wouldn't seem frightened and unsure presenting her new nature to her beloved, even if that was how she felt inside.

Ulfric slowly moved his hand from her arm, reaching to cup her cheek in it. He tilted his head, still speechless. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.

"The fire…It's in your eyes. As if they're burning." He smiled softly. "You look like a dragon." He quickly folded her into his arms, ducking slightly to plant a kiss on her lips. "Welcome home."

Aurra laughed, resting her forehead against the Jarl's. "I'm glad you don't think less of me."

"Less? If possible, I believe I think more. You will be the strongest High Queen Skyrim has yet seen…if you would accept my proposition, that is." Ulfric smirked and lifted something from the front of his robes. A bronze-looking disk, meticulously made with its intricate designs.

An Amulet of Mara.

"…Yes. That's all I have to say. Yes." She nodded happily, grinning so widely she was certain her growing fangs were on full display. Regardless, Ulfric laughed with her, kissing her again. "But…um…another thing. About Lucia…"

"Who?" Ulfric looked the happiest she'd ever seen him, still grinning like an idiot. Aurra inwardly groaned, though on the outside she smirked.

"My daughter. She lives in Whiterun at the moment. I suppose I'll need to bring her to the palace?"

"You have…you are…how old?" He demanded, dumbstruck.

"Ten. I've only had her for a month or so, though. She's adopted."

"Ah. I see…yes, then. Bring her here to the palace. I want to meet my daughter." The words sounded strange, especially with the surreal air his proposal still present. She could see that he _felt_ strange saying them.

"Aurra!" Serana's voice echoed surreally from the hallway. She was laughing. Talynne raised her eyebrows and walked back to the door, threading her fingers through Ulfric's as she went. "I believe Galmar owes you a bottle of Honningbrew Mead." A pause. "And also, could you possibly have failed to mention that you _killed Alduin?_ "

"…a lot has happened since we parted ways. I'll tell you in a bit," She whispered to Ulfric. He seemed bemused. "At the moment, however, I need to bask in my victory over your chief general."

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you've enjoyed this first installation! This is one of my first stories involving romance, and any tips would be appreciated. Also, for future chapters and works, I am open to requests, either for continuation of this or a different story entirely. Also, these shorter pieces are secondary to a larger series I'm working on, so updates may not be often.**


End file.
